


More Than Meets the Eye: Amok Time for America

by Cyrelia_J



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Attempt at Humor, M/M, Parody, Sexual Content, cartoon type violence, semi crossover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-04
Updated: 2014-08-04
Packaged: 2018-02-11 17:06:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2076093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyrelia_J/pseuds/Cyrelia_J
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just once Canada would like to make it through their annual sci fi convention cosplay unscathed. BotCon seemed a safe enough choice this year. After all, America couldn't possibly be turned on by 18 foot robots... Right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	More Than Meets the Eye: Amok Time for America

**Author's Note:**

> Finally got around to posting this here. Written as a gift fic for a community on LJ Xmas exchange. Lots of ridiculous sci fi references and unapologetic smut.

“Alright, these are our choices this year.” Canada looked up from his seat on America’s massive bed and over the footboard  to where his brother knelt on the floor with what must’ve been several dozen printouts spread all over like a map for battle. A large scrapbook still on his lap he blinked a few times, opening and closing his mouth, making a few false starts, and finally sighing. 

“I thought you said you narrowed it down.” He crawled over to the edge of the bed setting the book aside.

“Bro this _is_ narrowed down. You should’ve seen it a half hour ago.” Canada wasn’t sure he really believed that but there were some battles that just weren’t worth fighting.

“And you’re letting me pick this year?” he asked suspiciously changing the subject. “You’re not gonna do what you did last year and “accidentally” reserve the wrong hotel and tickets?” 

“Dude, for the last time, that was totally an honest mistake.”

“An honest mistake that you just happened have the costumes already made up for? Yeah, and Arthur’s just a “social drinker.””

“Hey, a hero always has to be prepared, right?” America grinned completely unrepentant and Canada just sighed and realized there was no winning this one. American naturally seized on the silence.

“So… you’re sure you don’t want to go to the Star Wa-“

“No!” Red faced, Canada interjected furiously. “Absolutely not.”

“Aw c’mon, I promise I won’t-“

“No.” Canada grabbed the large album on the bed holding it up expressively. “You see this? You remember this?”

“Hey that so wasn’t my-“

“Let’s dress up for the convention, Mattie,” Canada parroted in a rather impressive mimic of his brother’s overly enthusiastic cadence. “I don’t know why I thought in any universe that was a good idea…”

“Hey you were a totally hot Princess Leia.” America stood up and grabbed the scrapbook cheerfully. “I mean look at this, you even looked better than that blue chick with the massive-“

“I was supposed to be _Luke_! You were supposed to be Han Solo!” Well yeah, there was that but really, Canada didn’t have to be such a prude about it. 

“It could’ve been-”

“You got me the damn slave girl outfit you stupid hoser! And I don’t care what you say I swear you did it on purpose!” Canada yelled at him with a shove. “You made me miss the entire convention!” Canada lunged at him and America caught his brother easily rolling them both over, pinning him with that stupid shit eating grin still on his face the damn book under one arm.

“ _I_ made you miss it? Jeez you sure have a selective memory. Or did you forgot all about “Harder Al, more more I don’t care how sore I am just do it…”?”

“Sh-shuttup, jerk.” Canada looked away with a huff. “You didn’t have to listen…”

“Uh huh… yeah, like I’m gonna say no to _that_.” He licked the tip of Canada nose playfully then sat back up opening it back up. “Besides you would’ve overslept anyway and you know it.” He flipped through the carefully arranged photographs all pasted onto the acid free archival quality paper with stars on it of course and stopped at the two of them posing in their room with Mark Hamil. “Admit it, you had fun.”

Canada sat back up finding it hard to stay glaring when he looked at the picture of the three of them. Of course he was wearing pajama pants and a t-shirt and America was half holding him up because he’d been so damn sore that even the thought of standing made him wince but his brother had stayed with him nearly the entire weekend, sacrificing his own time at the convention to rent a Nintendo and play Super Mario Bros 3 with him. Okay so it wasn’t the _worst_ time he’d ever had at a convention. No, that was definitely reserved for the following year when America got them thrown out of Star Trek Las Vegas- clearly whatever happened in Vegas didn’t just stay in Vegas, it also got you ejected from a hotel- and ohh it had taken a few more years before he agreed to go to another one. And of course as soon as they went to Gallifrey One there was something about him dressed up like The Doctor or “Oh my god Ten” as America liked to say that once again went right to his brother’s groin and resulted in them barely making it to the convention floor a third time. At least he managed to make it to a an actual panel that year.

“Yeah… yeah we do have fun,” he conceded at last thinking that hell at least it was normal non political time with his twin.

“And you got to be Luke a few years later,” America needled him with an elbow as he flipped through the book further in. “Remember those awesome light sabers we had?” Canada definitely remembered those… “And hey, your arm grew back, right?” Yeah, yeah that was the part he remembered the most about that.

“I have no idea how you convinced your boss to allocate a portion of military spending to build those crazy things.” America just winked as they both looked at the big picture of the two of them, light sabers in hand carefully lettered underneath in green computer type with “Fuck Yeah”.

“Hey, Dubya was the shit, Mattie. I cut him in and we were in like flint.” Somehow the thought of America’s former boss with a bonafide light saber didn’t exactly sit well with him, but they had far more important matters to discuss. He smiled as America turned the page and there was a photograph of both of them sitting in the hospital with matching stumps. That was probably the only reason that year’s convention didn’t end in some crazy sci fi sex marathon. 

And speaking of which this year Canada was bound and determined to actually enjoy the event in its entirety. Really he’d almost given up. No matter what they cosplayed as America just couldn’t help but pounce him no matter how much he swore there was nothing sexy about the outfit. The longest he’d lasted was the previous year as one of the borg but even that…

“Helloooo, earth to Mattie.” America was waving a hand in front of his face and Canada just smiled at him. 

“Alright, Al, I got it. This year is Botcon.” And he waited while America digested that because he was sure it wasn’t even an option since the big Beast Wars Blowup of ’95. 

“You’re… sure?” America looked like he was only daring to dream that Canada had really said that. Canada nodded. No, he definitely hadn’t heard wrong. Because if there was one thing that no one could find fucking sexy it was 18 foot robots with no reproductive parts. “Really really sure? “cause I swear you told me when I asked you a few years ago the only way you’d ever even _talk_ about Transformers with me again was at gun point.”

“Super double deluxe positive,” Canada answered with a big grin and almost asphyxiated when America caught him in a massive bear hug and a loud cry of “OhmygodMattieIloveyou!” 

 

All in all the bruised ribs were well worth the thanks he got a few moments later.

 

\---

 

Okay yeah, so Canada was never going to another convention with his brother as long as he fucking lived and this time he _meant_ it. Next year he was going with Japan. As creepy as Japan was wheeling around a wheelbarrow full of H manga it was nothing compared to America’s half assed attempts to stop leering. _God I give up. Dear Lord if you let me get through this I swear I’ll give up my special brownies for good._ Because only America- only his crazy sci fi obsessed brother could possibly be standing there looking at him with almost a fucking hard on in the middle of the dealer’s room while he was dressed like this.

 

“ _Isn’t the new Starscream supposed to be silver?” Canada looked at the red white and blue outfit that was currently attached to a rather impressive likeness of himself in the hangar of the old Area 51 hangout America liked to call his “man cave”. And dead center of the massive sprawl of never opened action figures and old 1950’s pinup posters were the two aluminum outfits carefully crafted and discreetly funded by the 2011 defense allocation. Canada was rather impressed with his brother’s impassioned plea to his new boss not to cut off what had traditionally been delegated as “America’s sweet ass toy fund.” They weren’t the 18 foot titanium replicas but they were a sight better than resin or cardboard. Of course they weren’t quite what Canada had in mind since seeing the new movie with America and the new character designs, but as the other turned that fanatical gaze on him to the question, he took a step back and realized he should’ve once again kept his mouth shut._

_“Matthew Williams, you shut your filthy whore mouth,” America snapped as he fastened another rivet and Canada wondered if all this insanity was really worth it just to get through one convention unmolested. And as America started off on rant number fifty seven on why Michael Bay was a money hungry canon raping child murdering- Canada had no idea where that one had come from- asshole and “for the love of Primus, Bumblebee is a VW Bug”, he had a flashback once again to America dragging them both into the fucking bathroom at the Marriot whispering that he wasn’t quite feeling well and perhaps Bones would be so kind as to give his Captain an injection to be sure? And goddammit Canada was usually so much better at refusing his brother’s ill timed sexual advances but shit there was just something about America turned Captain Kirk propositioning him with those baby blue eyes that made him throw any sense of good judgment out the window and go down on him right against the sink. Okay... they definitely both needed costumes that weren’t so arousing._

_And as America kept ranting about “lack of source material my ass, the IDW comic has like All Hail Megatron, the kick ass spotlight stories, fucking Hearts of Steel…”Canada examined both costumes in detail really pretty damn impressed by just how precise they were. Not that he was any judge of a good Transformer’s costume according to his brother but he could still appreciate the air intakes on the Starscream costume and the perfectly scaled wings. And then of course there was America’s own Megatron design which rather begged the question..._

_“So Al,” he interrupted America’s diatribe on “Shattered Glass” not a moment too soon. “I’m still kinda surprised you wanted to be Megatron. I mean isn’t Optimus Prime the hero?”_

_His brother blinked as he redirected his focus, polishing the chassis til it gleamed._

_“Are you kidding me? I mean yeah_ _I’m_ _totally the hero but come on. Megatron is like seriously badass.” A gleam in his eye, he stepped back around behind the Megatron costume looking over the shoulder. “C’mon, say it.” Canada sighed, wondering not for the first time if the fusion cannon on that thing actually functioned- America already swore up and down the lasers weren’t lethal and how much of a killjoy his new boss was- but he just gave a small smile reciting the old dialogue from a movie he really couldn’t care less about if America didn’t like it so damn much._

_“One shall stand, one shall fall.”_

_“Why throw away your life so recklessly?” America fired back with an animated wave of his hand even behind the massive aluminum pieces._

_“That’s a question you should ask yourself, Megatron.” And Canada braced himself, taking a few steps back until he was safely in front of the couch when America exclaimed rather exuberantly,“No, I’ll crush you with my bare hands,” and dove at him._

 

Of course Canada was laboring under the ridiculous delusion that once they were actually _in_ the rather intricate costumes America would have little interest in playing grab ass. _Oh Matthew you stupid stupid idiot._ Yeah, that lasted all of thirty seconds when Canada had come out of the hotel bathroom feeling ridiculous in the gunmetal gray face paint and the red contacts. That stupid helmet was hot as hell too and he was only thankful that America had made a small concession about the codpiece thingamajig because there was no way he was gonna hold his bladder all day and not be able to sit because of the boxy design. Then again maybe it would’ve been a better idea to leave it ‘cause when he turned around to show America the “wings” he could just _feel_ those eyes on his ass and heard the “Hot damn Starscream sure has some fucking junk in the trunk.”

And all of that really should’ve been a warning that going out in public wasn’t going to be any better but oh America shot him that big wide eyed puppy dog look and swore on his Age of Apocalypse comics that he’d be totally one hundred percent good this year no matter what. _Yeah, good my ass, if his eyes could actually undress me..._ He tried to ignore it, following America’s impressive weave through the crown in search of the elusive G1 Fortress Maximus in mint condition. It kinda made Canada wonder just how much money he’d stol- procured for convention purposes but he was sure he’d be happier not knowing.

“Holy shit that is the most _awesome_ Starscream and Megatron I’ve ever seen!” Yeah, there’d been plenty of that ever since they stepped out of their room. If it wasn’t America oggling his goodies it was a fangirl wanting to see them do God only knows what or some fanboy wanking over the accuracy of the thrusters and the null ray and God not for the last time he wished he’d just sucked it up and picked Gallifrey One because at least he understood half of what they were talking about. It wasn’t like he could look at the Beast Wars figures without America flipping his shit or heaven forbid Transformers Animated which if he recalled correctly America had declared an abomination unto the eyes of Primus. Well at least one of them was enjoying himself. America was soaking up all the attention like a damn sponge.

“Oh yeah, you should totally check out the fusion cannon. Knock on my chest, it’s all metal.” America was currently chatting up some large chested woman with a mohawk and Canada was actually thankful for the ridiculous costume for once because it let him give that automatic jealous little glare that America loved to tease him about without it being terribly obvious. Really, it just made him look more in character if anything else.

“Oh wow is that titanium?” Canada resisted the urge to drum his fingers impatiently because last he checked there was a panel that America was dragging him to, one that _he_ insisted they not be late for. But no, heaven forbid some woman with a big rack wanted to flirt with him...

“Al...”

“S’all aluminum, baby,” America informed her with a flirtatious grin that really didn’t belong on Megatron’s face.

“Al,” Canada insisted again louder tapping his metal foot- “Pede,” America would say- rather insistently on the floor and at least his brother’s latest would be conquest had the decency to look over and suggest he answer but oh no, not the United States of fucking America.

“Oh hey, don’t worry about him, he can wait.” _I can wait, can I? I can wait while you get her stupid phone number and then spend the rest of the day bragging about how you’re gonna score tonight. I swear ever since you promised you’d behave yourself and not turn into a damn octopus you’ve been acting like a total asshole. Did you forget we’re supposed to be exclusive now? No more humans? Ugh I don’t know why I even put up with your... wait..._ Who said he had to just stand there quiet like a church mouse and just take it? Hell, he never agreed to make it easy on his brother either. _You’re gonna act like a total douchebag, Al? Well two can play at that game._

_This thing has a voice synthesizer, right?_ He looked down at the aluminum casing his forearm and turned his wrist up to the small access panel America had built in. _Yup, bingo, right there._ He might not be the G1 fanatic that America was but his memory was quite a bit better than the average human and he could recall well enough the character.

“Perhaps if you spent less time socializing with human females, mighty Megatron and more time plotting strategy we’d have already vanquished the Autobots and gotten the slag off this dirtball of a planet.” His voice sounded pretty damn scratchy and tinny but holy maple if the woman he was talking to didn’t turn to him with wide excited eyes and squeal. Canada didn’t get the appeal himself but wow, America sure seemed to. Heh, he didn’t even have to hide the smirk on his face when America whirled and just stared at him.

_Whoa dude, shit just got real, yo._ America blinked at the self satisfied grin on Canada’s face as he processed just what his brother had said. And hot damn but he really did sound like Starscream. Fuck Canada was sexy when he was being all in character and America smiled back at him for just a moment before rotating his arm and activating the voice synthesizer on his own costume.

“As always Starscream you talk big,” he stepped forward and that poor woman looked about to pass out when he held Canada’s chin, careful not to smudge the paint and whispered in that heavy robotic voice, “When everything about you is small.” And he saw the stunned expression on Canada’s face and just fucking smirked and turned around. Canada wanted to play, well America would let him stomp with the big dogs and see just how well he could keep up. His brother always was too slow. And Canada watched as America bid the woman a good day and headed to the panel a few minutes late watching after his brother, the gears in his head turning.

 

If Canada recalled correctly the line America had thrown out at him was from one of the new IDW comics. He had no idea how on earth he knew that, he’d always been a bigger fan of Frank Miller and Tarot: Witch of the Black Rose- for the story, not for the big tits and hairless slits as America had so crudely put it. And as he sat through some seemingly unending Q&A session with someone he was sure he’d never heard of before in his life he couldn’t help but watch his brother leaning forward in his seat like an eager puppy, far more enthusiastic than Megatron really ought to be. He checked his wa- his internal chronometer and realized it should be letting out soon and they could get some food. He just prayed that America had the good sense to opt for something edible and not try to kill them with that brew he’d magicked up in the kitchen before they left that he was calling “energon.”

Sure it was pretty impressive glowing in that cube he’d fashioned but there was something about a drink that glowed in the dark that Canada just couldn’t quite wrap his head around. He sighed, trying his damndest not to look bored or heaven forbid ask America a question because getting shushed like a little kid was more than even his non existent ego could take. So he just sat back, closed his eyes, and imagined the fun he could’ve been having if he’d just sucked it up and agreed to be Seven of Nine except there was no way in hell he ever would’ve made it to the main conference rooms unscathed and that was discounting all the godawful puns he’d have to endure and he swore America spent the entire year dreaming up lame and ridiculous pickup lines. And America poked him in the side and hissed “Dude, pay attention,” and really, he wondered if his brother was just naturally this obnoxious or if he stood in front of a mirror practicing. But hey, why mope about it when he was in a perfect position to make America squirm?

“As you command, mighty Megatron,” he answered with a small shrug turning the synthesizer back on and oh, was that a ripple he saw run through America’s body sitting next to him? Yup, definitely saw something. Canada ducked his head to hide the smirk but he did in fact attempt to pay a little more attention to Peter Cullen talking. Well, just enough to torture his brother.

“Pathetic,” he sneered in a near flawless Starscream impersonation, “That beneath all the pomp and ceremony the great Optimus Prime is nothing but a pithy flesh creature.” Yeah, America definitely swallowed hard and his gloved hands were balled into tight fists on his legs. Canada continued to look innocently ahead as the voice actor fielded some crazy fan girl question about Starscream and Megatron and Canada couldn’t have asked for a better opening even as the man up front looked half confused and half uncomfortable.

“Mattie?” America whispered in a voice that was definitely more strained than it had been a moment ago. “Shuttup.” Yeah that was definitely an octave higher and he almost laughed when he saw America try and hide his midsection and he was really tempted to make a comment about his “fusion cannon” but even he wasn’t _that_ cruel. 

“I would take care of that for you, oh great Decepticon leader of mine, but you _did_ promise to save that for the hotel room so...” he trailed off looking ahead deliberately avoiding eye contact and he heard America groan and swear under his breath because he’d sooner gnaw off an arm than break a promise and all too soon there was applause and the audience was standing up Canada already a step ahead of them making sure to walk with an extra little bit of sway- and why not, Starscream had always struck him as being rather coquettish anyway- and found that the remainder of the day was starting to look up.

Of course Canada hadn’t exactly counted on America skipping lunch in favor of performing some impromptu skit wherein Starscream naturally got his ass handed to him in yet another failed coup. And oh how he would’ve loved to turn the lasers on for real when America just beamed that thousand watt “I gotcha” grin as he gleefully informed them that they wouldn’t want to disappoint the fans now would they? Yeah, that was all well and good until Canada went flying ass over head and ended up looking up from the floor as everyone applauded “Megatron’s” amazing fighting prowess. And he didn’t miss that wink either which made him double determined to get America back

Ahh but he didn’t have to wait long; Canada tried unsuccessfully to hide another smirk behind a blue gloved hand as America remained rooted behind the table hunched over. Canada hadn’t realized America had taken this madness far enough to pack a bag full of “energon goodies” or what turned out to be pretty tasty hard candy of the jolly rancher kind but oh had he ever taken advantage of the opportunity to push the sweet red candy past his lips rather enthusiastically for the last fifteen minutes whenever America was looking his way.

“So tell me again, Mighty Megatron,” he teased rather wickedly as they stopped behind another table, “how hiding behind a stack of flesh creature literature is going-“

“Jesus Christ, Mattie would you stop it already you’re killing me,” America snapped at him wishing that he’s just said fuck it and gone with the full aluminum instead of leaving such “delicate” areas to brightly colored tights and briefs.

Canada had also learned pretty quickly that unsurprisingly America got hard faster than dollar store play doh whenever he used those ridiculous forms of address. 

“Of course. Forgive me Lord Megat-“ he squeaked when America clamped a warning hand over his mouth holding up Cyclonus’ Spotlight in front of his groin with the other hand. _Yeah, really subtle, Al._  

“You’re a total jerk, Mattie. Here I am being so good it hurts- and fuck you asshole it _does_ hurt- and you’re totally milking this for all it’s worth. I swear I am gonna get you so good you’ll-“ He almost went cross eyed at the null ray pointed between his eyes. “Uhh… you know that’s real, right bro?” America asked looking somewhat nervous.

Actually he _hadn’t_ realized they were real because he hadn’t thought even America was that stupid to go beyond the lasers to the real weapons. He also thought the United States Military was more responsible than that but apparently the guys in R &D just couldn’t resist those big puppy eyes and that grin. Okay more like they couldn’t resist any chance to fuck around with highly dangerous weaponry but still... Really it would serve his brother right to get his face frozen like that but Canada wasn’t that mean. Of course America didn’t need to know that. America was slowly removing his hand and Canada was once again employing his most impressive Starscream-esque smirk as he kept the weapon raised.

“Not so tough now, are you, mighty Megatron?” Canada practically purred in that synthesized voice as America backed up, one hand raising the fusion cannon, the other still holding the comic. Canada almost felt bad for him when he heard someone exclaim “Holy shit a real battle” and “Is Megatron hard?”

And America was never more thankful for the thick face paint because he was pretty sure he was blushing bright red underneath it. He was also thankful that nations couldn’t die of embarrassment either because he was like one more audience observation away from just willing himself to stop existing on the spot. But hey grace under fire was like one of his special powers and shit and if he could stand right next to Dubya floundering to remember the old “fool me once” quote with a straight serious face he could go toe to toe with Canada on the stage they set up amongst the collectibles and comics. _Alright fuck it, you wanna play you little twerp it’s go time daddio._ America flicked his own synthesizer on and yeah he kinda ripped the line off Galvatron but they could suck it. And yeah there was a gasp when he tossed the magazine down and some spindly little dude bitching about a crease but he’d pay for it later.

“You defeat me? This is bad comedy Starscream.”

He felt that odd crazy loud thump when Canada looked at him with that challenging defiance like that time with the light sabers when he was so fucking hard he almost lost his dick to that shit and oh man he didn’t know how the hell he was gonna keep from pouncing him right in the middle of this. And of course his brother just had to up the stakes, speaking in Their language to him so the humans couldn’t understand- which only made half the gathered crown swoon and swear they were speaking Cybertronian- and rapped out a challenge.

“Oh really, Al? You know I would’ve won that last fight if you hadn’t cheated and whipped out that phaser…”

“Hey it was on stun, wussball,” America answered without missing a beat as the two of them circled each other.

“So why don’t we make it interesting oh great United States of I’m a big fat cheater? AndIlostanarmyouassholesodon’tcallmenames....”

“Keep talking...” His grin was big and bright and kinda nasty with the paint and the silver helm and he wondered just how much damage this thing was gonna do when he finally fired it off but hey he had a good six hours of sexual frustration going on so he deserved it. 

“How about this? I kick your obnoxious burger eating ass and you have to be good the rest of the trip no matter _what_ I do...” And America just bit back a groan because lose to Canada? Ha! This was weapons and guns and ass kicking, not a fucking lumberjack maple syrup eating contest. “But if you win then I guess you get your way... likeyoualwaysdojerk.”

“Right here right now,” America rapped out as the crowd grew and he practically bounced with excitement. “When I kick your ass baby, you’re gonna turn right around and bend over that table and we’ll give the audience here a _real_ show.”

Canada didn’t miss a beat as he opened the activation panel and enabled the lasers. At least America made it pretty obvious how it worked. He flicked the switch and hid his surprise pretty well when the violent strafe shot out from the small gun attached to his arm and hit the wall. Holy crap he better be careful not to hit anyone- America’s definition of not lethal apparently meant not lethal to fucking titans. He’d been expecting more of a special effects type round of fire but that thing was like a carefully focused killer red beam of flashlight. America too looked like he wasn’t really expecting him to shoot right before he dove the hell out of the way but hey, if Canada was gonna fucking bring it then America wasn’t about to back away. And the people well… hell they’d move. America smirked, standing back up before hauling off and firing a crazy loud blast of his own, laughing pretty fucking maniacally as Canada swore and jumped. Of course the plasma smoked everything in its path but all was fair in love and getting laid and America just dodged a round of return fire ignoring the curtains that were pretty expertly singed behind him.

America could definitely hear the screams and the scrambles of the pussies who were nowhere near as hardcore as the real Transformers fans. That chick with the mohawk he was talking with earlier was like right there with them taking pictures, cheering them both on, and America was seriously wishing that his boss hadn’t cheaped out and pulled the plug on R&D ‘cause they were so close to getting that transformation cog down it would’ve been sweet. Then he could’ve been all comic book reborn Megatron and turned into the tank but then again Starscream was a flyer and Canada got airsick on a fucking ladder so yeah probably best they stay on the ground. And speaking of Canada, he thought his brother was yelling something in Their language about “This is for the time you stuffed me in that trashcan and said I was a Dalek” and holy crap Canada could sure hold a grudge.

“Hey it wasn’t nearly as bad as the time you spray painted my Chevelle and wrote USS Enterprick D on it!”

America was pretty impressed not only with Canada’s aim but with how well the aluminum was holding up with all the diving and rolling out of the damn way. And as he “accidentally” incinerated a whole table full of movie figures he prayed his boss wasn’t gonna take this out of next year’s fund. He fired a huge blast back at Canada, taking out a good chunk of wall, laughing at the slagpile that was left.

“Hey Mattie, you remember all the smack you were talking about Mega Shark versus Giant Octopus on Syfy? Well who’s laughing now?!” Canada paused long enough to barely avoid getting hit with another round of fire and America laughed loudly calling out in English. “This is why you’ll never succeed, Starscream!” He exclaimed louder for the awesome fans who were still there egging them on and placing bets and come to think of it America probably should hurry up and finish this off before the ceramic heat shielding was only rated for so many shots. “Because you’re nothing but a weakling with big words and a _little_ weapon!” And oh did Canada’s eyes flash dangerously at that one.

“Yes, but I’m fast!” And holy crap America gave him shit about being slow but super pissed Canada was like Super Saiyan Canada or like those killer angel gargoyle assassin statue things in that one episode of Doctor Who ‘cause one second he was popping out from a rack of universe figures and the next he was almost shooting America between the eyes with that damn null ray. And he was shooting again and America definitely heard him yelling about tentacle rape and jeez get a little liquor in Japan and apparently all the crazy shit after that was somehow _his_ fault and- _Ow dammit, who the hell put a chair there?!_ And as America looked up from where he’d fallen, he could see Canada’s stupid Canada smirk looking down with that laser aimed at his chest and oh fuck that was gonna hurt something fierce.

“Oh how it pains me do to this...” Well fuck if he wasn’t about to get a hole blasted in his chest he’d have creamed himself right then and there. Except there was also the fact that he could see a bunch of suits and sunglasses and he wasn’t sure whether or not he should be happy or sad that the Secret Service was always like a hop and a skip away from him. 

And as he saw Canada speared to the fucking ground from the side he looked up at the large man staring down at him with his arms crossed like a disappointed father.

“Uh... hi Bert,” America said mustering a sheepish grin as he went to sit up. And there went the gun pointed at him and he just sighed and held his hands up. “Aww c’mon Bert can’t we just...” he trailed off as he heard a string of Quebecquois swearing and saw the handcuffs land in his lap from some brush cut muscle head whose name he could never remember that he’d secretly named “Guile”. Well fuck if they were busting out the handcuffs and giving him the silent treatment they must really be pissed. He just hoped that Biden wasn’t gonna be as big of a douche nozzle as Cheney and make him spend a week in lock up ‘cause surely they wouldn’t actually bother his _boss_ about all this, right?

 

\---

 

“I can’t believe they threw me in here. _Me_. Dude, how the hell do you throw the United States of fucking America in the slammer for terrorism? That’s like fucking treason or something. Next meeting of Congress I am _so_ proposing they make an amendment ‘cause-”

“Oh shuttup, Al,” Canada grumbled from the seat next to him in the sterile interrogation room. He was sitting in the big plastic chair with his knees drawn up to his chest- no mean feat considering that he was almost six foot just like America- wearing the plain orange shirt and pants feet bare. He’d kicked off his shoes and America guessed he figured comfort was key right now because really, it’s not like they could _do_ anything to them. “This is all your stupid fault. I’m never agreeing to this ever again you grabby pervert.”

“Hey I’d rather be a pervert than a passive aggressive prude,” America fired back sticking his tongue out and crossing his arms. He had no idea how long they were gonna make them stew in here. Were they really gonna interrogate them? God this was so embarrassing!.

“I am _not_ a prude!” Canada sat up glaring at him. “Just because you get hot from the fucking Sharper Image catalog-”

“Hey that chick demonstrating that massage chair had it going on... And _you_ haven’t even told your boss about us!”

“I can’t tell him that!” Was America crazy? _Oh hey Stephen I just wanted to let you know that my brother and I are seeing each other. No it’s not really one of those “nation things” it’s kinda more like an incestuous gay sex thing..._ Yeah he could see that going over like a ton of bricks. Just because America had the bad taste to just tell his bosses whenever he thought it was “on topic”- how blurting that out during the last White House Correspondence dinner was “on topic” was beyond him- didn’t mean that he had to exercise the same appalling lack of tact. And really it wasn’t anyone’s business _who_ he was sleeping with. His personal life was just that. Personal. Of course America and Mr Newspaper had some sort of freakish bromance thing going on that Canada would never understand because he saw his brother on the cover of US Weekly about as often as Tom Cruise.

“Ha, see! Prude.” America nodded as if that were the final word on the matter and if he wasn’t worried about adding assault to the long list of charges Canada would’ve hit him. Of course with America adding UFC to his constantly expanding list of things he was absolutely over the moon for Canada didn’t trust him not go all Cro Cop on him in the name of “a little fun”. Still there was only so much he was gonna let slide even a door mat only took so much abuse before it slid out from under your feet and made you fall on your ass down a flight of stairs in front of England’s brownstone... _okay getting off subject there Matthew._

“ _I’m_ a prude? You don’t even show nudity on cable television!”

“Hey I don’t have any control over that!”

“You wouldn’t want them showing it even if you did!”

“That’s what HBO is for!”

“Now who’s the prude?!” America was standing up now and Canada joined him mustering the best glare that he could. “You’re so repressed, Al, that a stupid Starscream costume gives you a boner!”

“Hey!” America slammed a hand on the white table next to him jamming a finger in Canada’s  face. “That had nothing to do with me being repressed and everything to do with-” He didn’t quite clamp a hand over his mouth like a little kid but he was damn close because he really didn’t want to just blurt out like a stupid girl that it was all stupid Canada’s fault that he just looked that sexy in whatever he was wearing. Like say a prison orange half jumpsuit... “Y’know Mattie... you’re pretty sexy when you’re all pissed off,” America said with a waggle of his eyebrows and the expression that Canada shot him in return was this funny almost blank look like he was so stunned he didn’t even know how to react. It was seriously awesome and America was so gonna be taking advantage of that one because it wasn’t often that his brother was at an actual loss for words.

He cleared his throat and in his best Megatron impersonation, said

“Why? That's what they all asked me.” He leaned in just a little bit. “Why him... why Starscream? Why, of all the Decepticons, did I decide to revitalize the one whose record of deceit and betrayal is legend?..” And America leaned in even further and gave Canada a good hearty _smack_ on the ass and whispered in his ear in a low voice, “Because he has a sweet ass, that’s why.” America paused just long enough to see if he was gonna get a knee to the groin or if Canada was gonna rise to the bait and he heard the slightly husky voice as Canada answered him with a “Al we can’t.. not here we can’t... we can’t do that... fuck.” He finished with a resignation that was just as good as an enthusiastic punch in the air and oh yeah, it was go time like show time!

“C’mon Mattie, let’s pretend you’re like the borg and fucking assimilate me.” America shivered as Canada definitely rose to the occasion and cupped his face, kissing him lightly letting those slightly dry lips brush his.

“Maybe,” Canada kissed him again- definitely wetter and longer. “I should make...” kiss. “…like a Dalek...” lick. “…and exterminate your stupid ass.” He nipped America’s lower lip and drew it out a little harder than he really need to and America couldn’t stop that hitch of breath and that familiar torturous tightening of his groin as his cock stirred a hell of a lot more furiously to life.

“Ex-sperminate?” America murmured against his mouth teasing him and he could just _feel_ Canada rolling his eyes and get ready to make some sarcastic comeback but America just brought his hands down and gave his twin’s ass a good hearty squeeze- hard enough to almost lift him off the floor- and Canada just let his arms slide around America’s neck and moaned leaning into him.

Because as much as his brother liked to act all responsible and mature when they came right down to it Canada was just as willing to get down and dirty wherever whenever with the right persuasion. And he felt that stillness as Canada was flush against him and just realizing how fucking hard America was as he looked through the slightly fogged lenses of Quebec and answered in a sing song little trill,

“You’ll have to do better than that.” And America just grinned and squeezed that tight ass again because Canada never played like that if he didn’t _really_ want to do it

“I love you, Mattie,” America said in the voice he usually reserved for some major fuck up like that other massive oil spill and he felt his brother shiver and he could hear Canada’s breaths in his ear getting hotter and heavier as he whispered in such a sexy needy voice,

“Say it again, Al.” Oh yeah, America definitely knew the right buttons to push and it always kinda amazed him that just as Canada never seemed to get tired of hearing it he never got tired of saying it. And feeling his twin’s warm breaths as he squirmed and kneaded at America’s back, he’d never been more thankful to have such a wicked ace up his sleeve.

“I love you Mattie,” America murmured against the warm skin of Canada’s neck and Christ Canada was practically wrapped around him as their lips crashed together all crazy hot and wild and it was all America could do to keep from just squeezing him ‘til the breath left him entirely.

But America never seemed to realize though that as intimidating as Canada found his insane strength on most occasions outside the bedroom, when it came to sex there was just something about his brother lifting him clear up without even trying. There was something about that fight for dominance that turned him on something fierce and as annoyed as he’d been the one year they’d gone to Comic-Con as Tron and Flynn, he couldn’t deny how amazing it was when America had nailed him against the wall of the hotel room hard enough to collapse through to the other side. Of course management wasn’t exactly thrilled and good god did the paparazzi ever have a field day with that one but just remembering that gave him that surge of heat through his body, made his fingers tangle painfully in his brother’s hair as they kissed until he heard that throaty growl and felt himself being lifted off the floor like a fucking doll and practically thrown onto the steel table that was thankfully bolted down.

Canada caught himself on the cold surface and looked up half sitting back on his elbows, legs dangling over the side as he watched America unable to help a brief sideways flicker to the two way mirror that just _had_ to have people standing behind it. He licked his lips and had to admit to himself- he’d die before ever letting America know- that the thought of being watched as America went down on him or slid down all naked and hard on his cock was a pretty hot mental picture right now. Actually when he looked in the mirror he could see America pushing his shirt up from another angle just as he felt those slightly chilly hands on his stomach and felt the goosebumps even as he complained about how cold America’s hands were and his brother responded right on cue with his usual brilliant observation of how warm Canada was in turn. And Canada gasped and found himself watching the far too bright fluorescent lights above hearing the buzzing that seemed so loud and America’s erratic heavy breathing against his skin as his brother pushed the shirt up more, his warm soft mouth more than making up for his cold hands.

“Mmm, I should suck you off right here, baby,” America said breathlessly as one hand dug into Canada’s hip and the other was seemingly deicing itself against Canada’s ribcage- cold and tickling and somehow making his nerves criss cross and tell his dick to get even harder. And god did those words ever give him one hell of a pause and the thought of watching his brother in that mirror, head buried between his legs, the stupid suits in the other room able to see everything was just too damn tempting to resist. 

“And miss all those... totally lame one liners?” America blew him a raspberry and Canada laughed softly even as his glasses spotted up with spit.

“Ha, lame my ass, you wish you could be this cool.” And of course the jerk just had to stave off his answer by deciding it would be the perfect time to test the elasticity of his left nipple. Canada’s arms trembled and he whined softly biting his lip almost falling backwards as he shut his eyes and drowned in the happy little hum of his brother’s purring voice and the painful little pinpricks as America twisted and pinched and he felt that other hand kneading and pushing at his right pec and he was glad he wasn’t trying to stand because his legs sure as hell would’ve been shaking.

America liked to complain he never made enough noise and Canada swore he was bound and determined to make him scream loud and high enough to shatter glass sometimes. But ohh it was such a fun little game and America tugged and fastened his mouth to Canada’s neck and Canada just knew his brother was gonna suck it like a damn vampire until it was bright red and hypersensitive and he let a soft whimper escape and could feel the sweat pooling under his palms and he just kept looking up at those humming lights as America’s knees bumped his and those teeth scraped and he could smell the cherry candy of America’s breath and could feel his hips pushing up seemingly of their own volition as America continued to try and tattoo his fucking neck with his mouth and he felt that funny vertigo from tipping his head back and felt America squirm against him like he was trying to hump his damn knees and Canada just wanted to open up and lay back and beg him to hurry the hell up!

_Oh yeah, baby, I know you wanna moan louder than that._ America knew exactly how to make Canada scream although it was kind of a dick move but hey, he was the United States of fucking America, he wrote the book on dick moves. And really his brother was kinda asking for it because he was just so pliant and sexy let America push that shirt the rest of the way up and off and America pulled back just enough to snap a mental photograph of Canada leaning back looking up at him all mussed, a few traces of the face paint dotting his hair line, wavy strands all sticky and messy from being under the helmet all day- Christ he looked all freshly fucked and America so wanted to paint him even dirtier- and America grinned that “watch out” look and watched the cute little hint of wariness appear on Canada’s face before he fucking pounced. And oh did Canada ever scream when his naked back hit the freezing cold table and he punched at America’s shoulders with a pretty damn creative series of curses- a few even in Klingon- to which America just laughed and teased that he was just too slow and kissed him hard again letting Canada just pour every last ounce of pissed into the rough meeting of mouths.

And pour he did; Canada was definitely pissed. His entire body felt like one big goosebump and the steel table top was like ice and if his stupid heavy brother wasn’t keeping him pinned down he’d have thrown himself off the second his back touched it but nope, Ameri-douche had practically stolen the breath from him by the cold and by his weight and then sealed their mouths together. And of course when his twin was all hot and ready to go nothing short of being hit by a MAC truck would deter him and Canada gave one last annoyed punch and just settled for scratching the ever loving fuck out of America’s back through the thin orange shirt as he opened his mouth and kissed him back frantically. 

He knew distantly, somewhere in some rational part of his mind they were a total damn mess, their teeth were banging and felling his glasses knocked half askew- hearing Texas hit the floor somewhere in all that- trying his damndest to taste the roof of his fucking mouth while America went sideways and tilted his head like he was giving him mouth to mouth and sucked and bit and dammit he wanted it so bad he he could draw his brother into every part of him he would because right now he was barely remembered to breathe, only remember when America would pull back long enough for some gulp of afterthought air before diving back in trying to cram his tongue halfway down Canada’s throat like there was a fucking pearl at the back or something. And he heard America growl and then realized belatedly the noise was coming from his own throat as well as he realized his brother was laid out on top of him grinding their hips together roughly like he was gonna sink through the table if his brother didn’t anchor him down.

And right now Canada observed belatedly that America didn’t just smell of candy but taste like it too which clearly meant his brother had snuck a whole bunch inside without sharing: the dick. Of course that thought didn’t linger for long because ten hours of mutual sexual frustration had him ripping at the shirt America still had on before his brother broke the kiss long enough to take the damn thing off and Canada could feel the warm hard chest pressed flushed to his own again as America nipped at his kiss swollen mouth with something that sounded like “Fuck… fuck you’re gonna make me come…” and Canada didn’t think that he was doing anything all that exciting though the raised welts on his brother’s back spoke otherwise. 

Well that was fine by him because he needed release and already felt about to explode his cock felt so full and heavy it was gonna be like the fucking Poseidon Adventure when he finally came- and wow he couldn’t even remember the last time he’d gotten off like this- but he was hardly complaining because America rutting against him was almost as good as sex without all the wait and Canada buried his face in America’s neck determined to outdo the hickey on his own neck with teeth and nails and oh god oh god America always felt so big and hard against him he wished he could just wiggle out of the stupid pants and feel the naked slick cock skin to skin and he just took another deep breath and smelled the lingering traces of paint and sweat and licked and bit at the salty wetness beaded on his skin.

And as America ground against him hard enough for the table surface to become painful on his shoulder blades, Canada squirmed and hiked a leg up wanting to force them closer, wanting to feel even more of his brother’s hard erection rub his own through those stupid orange pants and the friction of the scratchy fabric was almost painful but right now it was fucking perfect and Canada panted and moaned and gasped out rather brilliantly, “C’mon Al… I want the big gun.” Which in hindsight didn’t make a whole lot of sense but it seemed absolutely perfect at the time and it seemed to mean something to America too who grabbed at his legs and somehow maneuvered the pants down enough that he could feel the cool air hit his cock and in an almost perfect mirror he moved his hands and helped America slip out of his own criminal fashion statement except of course _he_ had the good sense not to just rip the stupid things clean off when they wouldn’t come so easily but hell he’d worry about being completely naked later. 

Because right now America was grabbing blindly at his legs, shoving them apart and he had this crazy moment of panic driven lust where he wondered if America wasn’t just going to slam it the hell on home with just the sticky clear fluid coating his cock as lube as he pulled back those brilliant lust hazy blue eyes never leaving his own violet ones, But no, America just winked as if to say “had you going there”, grabbed his hips, cock to cock and rocked their bodies together fast and hard in one of the most torrid simulated sex acts that Canada ever had the privilege to partake in. And if America was trying to make him cry out in earnest well mission accomplished because he was definitely screaming his twin’s name as he held on for the ride, his hands grabbing and groping at America’s shoulders mostly hitting the air before settling on America’s waist and America snapped his hips and rutted like a damn Vulcan in pon farr and Canada could feel the wetness pooling between them, feel the loose foreskin being pushed back from the head of his cock and knew he wasn’t gonna be good for much longer.

America could feel his brother’s legs tighten around his waist, feel those strong thighs quivering and tensing and fuck he wish he’d thought far enough ahead to prepare something else but Christ he had Canada on a damn table in some interrogation room in the pentagon with the damn cameras and the fucking fun police behind the mirror so really he was gonna take what he could get before his dick fell off. And Canada was taking it so beautifully, one hand clutching at the smooth surface of the table and the other finally getting a damn clue and dropping between the both of them in some uncoordinatedly awesome palming that just made America thrust even harder feeling Canada’s attempting to fist them both and get even more friction in that wet sticky mess and he looked so sexy as he gasped for breath like he just couldn’t get enough air and he swallowed and half sobbed and America could feel those short blunt nails as they’d left the table, dragging down his bicep and he groaned and felt his balls draw up tight and hot and-

“OhgodohgodMattieMattie...” And he went still then right as Canada finally found a goddamn good grip and jerked the both of them for like half a fucking second before America one a hand from one of Canada’s hips to rest over Canada’s holding their dicks almost flush against Canada’s stomach, as he came, came a fucking jet stream it seemed like over Canada’s chest and didn’t miss a beat in helping in twin in some crazy sweet nation mind sex meld, both hands working up and down the shaft of Canada’s cock so fucking wet with come and precome that America thought if he crawled right up Canada’s body and sat back it’d slide the fuck in right to the hilt without a hitch. But oh Canada’s eyes were half shut and as America jerked in time with his brother like an endless fucking masturbation tunnel he felt the twitch and throb and felt the warm semen spilling through his fingers that he didn’t even waste a second in bringing to his mouth and lapping up, the faint chlorinated scent some weird kinda turn on but hell who was he to question it. 

And as he watched the rise and fall of Canada’s chest all naked and vulnerable and looking like he was one step from passing out as he lay flat on the table panting, he just couldn’t help but give in to the urge to heft his brother’s entire lower half off the table, sling those longer legs over his shoulders and lap at Canada’s softening cock. He heard the hiss- that omyfuckinggod overload hiss- but Canada tasted so good and his poor brother was just so spent that he only had the energy to turn his head to the side and whimper against the table looking so beautifully vulnerable. And America licked and sucked and he could see Canada’s eyes half open and hear the moans growing louder as his broad tongue swiped at the half soft shaft ‘cause somehow even if his brother couldn’t quite get hard again the mind was more than willing. America shifted as he knelt, his own cock starting to stir and god he didn’t care if it ended up hurting he was just gonna go for it. And he felt the shaft start to firm as he worked and took the half soft length into his mouth ‘cause he was considerate enough to make sure everything was clean as a whistle y’know, and ohh he was dreaming of the marathon fuck session they were about to have right on the table when he heard the click and watched the door fly open and come eyeball to fucking eyeball with none other than his and Canada’s bosses standing in the fucking doorway.

And Canada noticed it too at almost the same moment as he tipped his head back, seeing the lot of them upside down his face turning bright red, his eyes wide, his mouth open like an idiot hoping that America would just _say_ something because right now his brain was mush and his stupid brother didn’t even have the good sense to let the cock slip out of his mouth and yeah he was planning on telling his boss _someday_ that he and his brother were involved but fuck it sure didn’t involve a quickie while they were waiting to be grilled about anti American activities and WMDS or god only knows what Homeland Security had come up with. And he was so gonna blame America later for the fact that he swallowed and squeaked and blurted out the first stupid thing that came into his head because dammit he somehow just had Transformers still on the brain!

“It... It was the triplechangers! They tricked me!” And god would that that had been the end of it... except America’s boss... the president of the United States of America just raised an eyebrow without missing a beat and answered back.

“You’re either lying or stupid.”

“...I’m stupid,” was the last thing that Canada remembered saying before passing out.


End file.
